


Habit

by kingpenalty



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:33:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27354268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingpenalty/pseuds/kingpenalty
Summary: Nolan loves to get tattooed.
Relationships: Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick
Comments: 40
Kudos: 337





	Habit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notthequiettype](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthequiettype/gifts), [solarperigee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/solarperigee/gifts).



> this was largely already written via twitter thread (notthequiettype, solarperigee), I just wanted to put it all together. I don't have any tattoos, sorry if this has inaccuracies! but that's probably not what you're here for.

Nolan loves to get tattooed.

Sure, it's about the art, and the memories, and the meaning behind each piece- (or lack of meaning, in some cases) but he knows that deep down, he likes the act of being tattooed maybe a little bit too much.

It’s not anything to worry about, really. He was in juniors with a guy who liked water skiing just because he liked falling off and crashing into the waves. Something about that full-body bruise feeling really did it for him, or whatever, but he was a freak for telling everyone about it.

It’s just that- all athletes enjoy pain to an extent. That’s part of the deal, pushing through bodily discomfort for a greater reward. If they didn’t like pain, then they wouldn’t reach a high level of performance. That’s all there is to it. 

If Nolan likes the scraping sting of the needle, so what? He’s trained himself for years to cling to the endorphins his body released while in pain. So what if he loved the high?

He follows some different tattoo artists on Instagram, like any normal person. There’s one artist in particular he’s been aching to get an appointment with, but his schedule is always booked for months in advance. His art is beautiful, raw and original, and part of the reason Nolan wants to book with him is just to see what this guy looks like. 

Nolan refreshes his feed, and there’s a post that pops up at the top. It’s that artist, @tikitats. He’s having some kind of giveaway for some kind of milestone, but all that matters is that the first five people to send the account a DM will be given a time slot for an appointment in the next month.

And if his hands shake while he furiously types out a message, so what?

__________________________________________________

Tikitats- well, _Travis_ , is very nice when he replies right away on Instagram. Nolan’s sure that his own blue checkmark probably does him some favors, but what was he supposed to do? Pass up this opportunity?

Travis already wants to know what kind of piece he’s looking to get, the size, the placement, and Nolan sways on his feet just thinking about it. It’s going to be big, bigger than the others, and it’s going on his thigh even though he’s starting to run out of real estate.

His specialty is nature-themed tattoos, and he sends Nolan a photo of a sketch he did recently. It’s a heron in flight, with its wings outstretched. The style is bold, with thick black lines, and even though it’s the first time he’s considered this design, Nolan knows it’s perfect. 

He says as much to Travis, and they set a date.

__________________________________________________

The place where Travis works is really nice, so nice it isn’t apparent from the street that it’s a tattoo parlor. It reminds him of some places he saw in Europe, the whole feng shui screams modern architecture. Maybe it was European, like, what kind of last name was Konecny anyway? Czech, or something, probably.

Nolan doesn’t sit in the waiting room long before someone emerges from one of the side doors and slides behind the reception desk. 

“Hey, how's it going?” the guy says. He looks like a bit of a hick, with a backwards cap and scrappy facial hair. The Ducks Unlimited t-shirt really completes the look. He looks violently out of place behind the shiny white counter, but he’s cute. 

“M’fine,” he nods, “waiting for my appointment with Travis.” 

The guy laughs. “Yeah, I know. That’s me.” 

Nolan feels his face heat up against his will. He wasn’t expecting him to look like- that. He looks young, and kinda… hot. His biceps are tight against the sleeves of his shirt, and this feels like more than he bargained for. “Oh,” he mumbles, trying to keep cool, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Travis grins, and his demeanor puts Nolan at ease. “I’m ready for you, if you want to come on back?” 

He follows him back into a side room, and there’s a country radio station playing softly in the background. His mind is still reeling. He was expecting, like, a guy with a long grey beard or something like that. But now he’s got Travis, who insists that he call him TK and smells like expensive cologne. 

TK gets him to recline on the table, which is more like a cushy massage bed than anything. “Okay Nolan,” he says, “You okay if I go ahead and look at the area where we’re putting this thing?” 

“Sure,” he replies, and pulls up the leg on the left side of his basketball shorts. The tattoo is going on the inside of his thigh, and it’ll wrap around so that the face of the bird is visible from the front. Which felt like a great idea until this moment, for whatever reason. He watches TK pull on a pair of black gloves, and he looks pleased with himself, like he’s really excited to do this. 

“I’m going to get you positioned how I need, is that okay?” TK smiles gently.

“You can call me Patty,” Nolan says impulsively at the first touch of TK’s cool, gloved hand on the inside of his thigh. Fuck, he’s jumpy. The anticipation, he guesses. Travis’ gaze isn’t helping, either.

“Kay, Patty, I think…” He hums, chewing on his bottom lip. “Yeah, would you mind taking your shorts off? I’m gonna need the room.” 

Nolan lifts his ass up to slide his shorts down his legs. He figured this might happen, so he’s wearing briefs. Something about this situation has him feeling much more naked than usual. 

TK is chatty, but not annoyingly so. He mostly just narrates everything he’s doing, asking Nolan before he does anything even though he’s already fucking signed up to do the tattoo. It’s nice. 

“I used to play hockey,” TK offers, like he needs a reason to make himself more attractive to Nolan, fuck. He’s settled in between his legs now, shaving the area with a straight razor. 

“Oh yeah?” Nolan replies, and his voice comes out thin. “Where at?”

TK’s telling him all about it, but Nolan can’t think about anything but the steady scrape of the razor, starting almost at the crease of his groin and running down towards his knee. It’s hypnotizing. The softer inside of his leg isn’t as hairy as the front, but it still takes Travis a long time to do it. He has to switch razors halfway through. 

He’s a really nice guy, Nolan thinks absently as he applies the stencil to the inside of his thigh. His brain feels untethered, and he almost misses it when TK asks him to flip onto his stomach. 

“How’d these other pieces go?” TK asks after Nolan’s flipped over. “I ask because I’d like to do this in one sitting if we can. Do you think you’ll need to break?” 

“No, I-” his voice cuts out when he feels TK spread his legs further. He clears his throat, and wills away the heat that flames in his lower belly. “No, I’m good.” 

“I’m going to go ahead and get started, then. Let me know if you need to shift, or change your mind and need to take a breather.” TK smiles kindly.

Nolan knows he won’t need to take a breather, but he nods anyway. He tries not to feel too relieved when he hears the buzz of the tattoo gun. 

He makes a little sound when the needle makes contact with his skin, and it’s completely involuntary, just this half-hum of satisfaction-

“Is that sensitive there?” Travis asks, and Nolan really wishes he wouldn’t… say it like that. 

“No,” he says, cheeks flushing maroon, “Mm-” He was going to say something, but thinks better of it. 

Travis must decide that he’s lying, because he braces himself against Nolan’s body in a different, more firm way. His other leg ends up pressed against Travis’ ribs.

“Okay, so,” Travis smiles, “I guess this is weird to say. Sorry if it’s weird. But this has to be like, the most muscled thigh I have ever worked on.” The palm of his free hand is flat against his thigh, and his grip is firm. He’s not heavy handed with the gun, though, and the pain is just on the right side of sweet. “Like, seriously.”

He needs to shut up, immediately. “Doubt it,” Nolan says, because what is he supposed to do, agree? “You’re famous.” 

“Famous?” TK scoffs. “I think out of the two of us, you’re the famous one.” 

“That’s beside the point,” Nolan argues, “You’re still a famous tattoo artist. You’ve worked on a lot of people.” 

“Listen, _Patty_ ,” he says, and even though Nolan can’t see his face, he knows that he’s amused by this whole exchange. “You’re right. I have seen a lot of different people. Which is why I know that this is the most muscley leg.” 

“Okay, first you said thigh, now it’s leg, which-” Nolan’s voice cuts out as TK traces a devastating line that hurts so good. “Which is it,” he says when he’s able to continue, his voice high and reedy. 

TK takes a moment to respond; he’s clearly concentrating on whatever’s going on down there. He moves his hand to hold his skin in a different way, which is no problem, except that he’s halfway grabbing his ass, now. 

He’s in so much trouble.

Travis hums, like he’s really having to think about the question. “Muscliest thigh, definitely. Probably more like… a top five leg.” 

Is this flirting? Is it ethical to flirt with someone who’s giving you a tattoo? 

“What’s keeping me from being number one?” Nolan asks before he can stop himself. 

“Well,” TK starts, and then snorts like he’s trying to not laugh. Oh god, that means there’s a real answer. “Some of these tattoos… listen, I always say this is a judgement-free zone, you know? But if you want my real answer-”

“Hey, fuck you, my tattoos are good,” but his voice doesn’t have any bite. TK has him pinned like an insect. 

“Sure,” TK says, “they’re good. But they’re not as good as mine.” 

The worst thing is, there’s absolutely no good comeback to that. Travis is right. “Sorry you’ve been booked for the past two years,” and he hopes that TK can hear the eyeroll.

The tattoo gun stops for a moment. “You’ve been trying to get in for two years? Shit,” Travis breathes, like he can’t believe it. Dumbass. “Wish I would’ve known. I could’ve worked something out for you, probably.” 

“Is that what you tell all the pretty clients?” 

TK doesn’t say anything. 

“I mean-” Nolan tenses up, hoping to God he didn’t just-

“Hey, relax,” TK says, and puts him back under the needle. “And no, that’s just what I tell you.” 

There’s a long bubble of silence, where Travis gets really focused and Nolan feels too exposed to try to generate small talk again. It’s fine, except for that he just becomes more and more aware of TK’s body against his, the way he’s got a grip on him that’s on the softer side of businesslike and it’s really, really good. He gets lost in it, the warm weight of Travis at odds with the pricking of the needle. 

“Alright, we’re nearly there. I’m going to get you to flip over now, okay?” TK says, and Nolan didn’t realize exactly how fucked he was until this moment. 

It’s not that he didn’t know he was hard, it just wasn’t at the forefront of his mind. 

Travis moves away from where he’s between Nolan’s legs, and now there’s no excuse for him to still be laying on his stomach, but he can’t bring himself to-

“Patty,” TK blurts, and with the way he says it, Nolan knows that he knows. “It’s fine.”

“Do you want me to-” Nolan starts, and he doesn’t even know where he’s going with that. Well, go cool off is what he means, but it’s already way too much acknowledgement.

“I would rather not fuck up my rhythm unless it’s an emergency,” Travis says, and fuck, that doesn’t help him at all. 

Maybe it’s just TK, or maybe it’s the wave of incoming endorphins that make him bold, but that’s all it takes to get Nolan to turn to his back. His dick is straining at the front of his briefs, and it looks more obscene than he imagined it would. He kind of wants to die.

“Yeah, that’s not an emergency,” Travis says. It’s much worse now that he can see TK’s face, the high blush that’s settled across his cheekbones. 

Nolan can’t tell if he’s embarrassed or affected, but either way he’s not disgusted. “Sorry,” he mumbles. 

Travis pins him down again, and as ruinous as it was last time, this is exponentially worse. His forearm is maybe an inch away from his dick. “It’s really not an issue,” he smiles conspiratorially. He begins working again, and Nolan is thankful for the distraction even if it doesn’t help his situation.

“Does this happen a lot?”

TK smiles again. “Nah. But it’s not a problem.” 

God. Nolan squirms involuntarily, and Travis lifts the needle a split second before he does. Real professional shit. 

“Does it happen to _you_ a lot?” TK asks. 

“Never happened before, nope.” Nolan feels a bead of sweat roll off his forehead. “But I’ve always uh, liked getting tattoos.” He’s stuck in this awful feedback loop of arousal and embarrassment, and he can’t get out. 

“So I’m special, then?” 

“Yep,” Nolan breathes, and twitches again. He wants- Fuck, this is so embarassing. 

A flash of something like annoyance passes across TK’s flushed face. “Do you need me to hold your hips down?”

Holy fuck. “Yeah,” he whispers. It’s probably breaking some kind of workplace code of conduct, but TK probably owns this whole studio. They can do whatever they want, which is another thought altogether. 

Travis moves his forearm up so that it's braced across his hips, a firm, full pressure against his dick. He’s leaking, he knows he is. He twitches again, a complete accident, and TK just holds him down harder. He’s strong. 

“We’re almost done,” he tells Nolan, “you’re doing good.” He rubs his thumb against his hip in a soothing motion. 

Nolan stares at the ceiling and tries to think of unsexy things, but at this point, there’s not much he can do besides try to bite back any sounds that make their way to the surface.

It doesn’t take Travis long to finish up, and he wipes down his work with a grin. “It looks good, man.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, pushing up onto his elbows. The heron looks even better on his skin that it did in the sketch. It’s perfect, which is incredible considering how challenging he made TK’s job. “I love it.”

“I’ll have to wait to take a picture until later, eh?” Travis says.

Nolan nods. He’s getting his thigh wrapped in plastic now, which isn’t sexy at all, except that it is. Travis is focused on getting everything cleaned up, but he’s also red up to his ears. 

“You’re still-?” TK asks, which Nolan assumes means… hard? Aroused? 

“Yeah, sorry.”

“You doing anything after this?” 

“Nope, I don’t have plans.”

__________________________________________________

It’s embarrassing how quickly he comes down TK’s throat once they stumble into his apartment, but today has been an embarrassing day. Whatever.

TK pushes him to the floor and jerks off onto his chest, rambling this stream of consciousness shit about how stupid it was that he was so hot and how he got hard under the needle, which yeah, he knows it was stupid, but look where the stupidity got him?

“Will you let me put one here?” TK asks later, when he’s bullied him onto the bed for round two. He’s mouthing at the place right below his hip bone. 

“No,” Nolan says, until TK starts sucking lazily at his balls. “Or-” he groans. “I would think about it.”

“Let me put one here,” he whispers as he licks the inside of his other thigh, the one without the heron.

“Okay.”

“And here.” 

“Yes.” 

“And here.”

“Please.”

__________________________________________________

“Fuckin Patty, with the _thigh sleeves_!” Kevin screeches. It’s the first team practice of the new season, and he’d almost forgotten about his new work. They weren’t _not_ thigh sleeves.

Nolan swallows his grin. He hasn’t had any trouble booking appointments with TK in a while.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading. twitter is @kingpenalty


End file.
